Protection
by Lake of Rage
Summary: (ZeLink Week Day 2: "Protection") Skyward Sword based, no spoilers. "He was seventeen and she was eighteen, and they had always looked out for each other." ZeLink (Zelda/Link).


_Huh. Whaddaya know. I'm actually going through with this challenge._

 _Done for the second day of ZeLink week. Today's prompt was simply "Protection", and this was the first thing that came to mind. In case it's not obvious, I've never actually played_ Skyward Sword, _so I apologize in advance for any canonical errors I made in this fic. If you spot any, I'd be so darn chuffed if you would tell me so that I can fix them. it would be a big help._

 _Oh, and also this week is midterms, so that's why this is so rushed, short, and incomplete-seeming. Darn you, daily deadlines!_

 _In any case, let's get this show on the road._

* * *

 **Protection**

He was seventeen and she was eighteen, and they had always looked after each other.

When Groose took it too far—or even when he really didn't take it too far—with his bullying of Link, Zelda would be there to scold him until he let the blonde boy be. In kind, Link took off after Zelda whenever she went on another of her crazy adventures, defending her from any monsters she couldn't handle on her own. It worked out well since Link wasn't too good at verbal confrontation, whereas Zelda could talk someone down if they didn't even speak the same language, and, on the converse, Link had always been excellent at combat despite Zelda being rather inept in anything that involved harming another person.

It was to the point where they rarely went anywhere without each other, both because they just liked to hang out and because each was always worried that the other would get into some sort of trouble.

It was hardly an unfounded worry most of the time, to be honest.

* * *

He was five and she was six, and they had never spoken before, but Zelda would never let anyone get hurt like that on her watch.

At that time, Groose's heart of gold hadn't yet grown, and he was just a flat-up jerk, but he was so deceptively kind to Zelda that she never noticed. The only people he was especially rude to were Fledge, who avoided Zelda whenever he could since even as a kid he was a mess around girls, and Link, whom Zelda avoided whenever she could since he would never talk to anyone; he'd just stand and stare. Thus, they were Groose's two safe targets, and they were pretty easy targets at that.

Fledge was the most effortless boy to bully in Skyloft, since he was pretty much a wuss and nothing else, and Link wasn't exactly able to defend himself, being a mute child with no parents or friends. Only when Zelda was around was Groose even somewhat civil to them, which was luckily not very often.

Until now.

Because Zelda had just skipped out of school, having stayed late to ask her father if she could go play with Groose and Stritch, and there were her two friends, shoving around a third boy their age and mocking him every time he hit the ground.

At the time, she hadn't even brought their identities into consideration. The fact that Groose and Stritch were her friends and Link was a boy she actively avoided didn't count for anything. All she knew was that one boy was smaller, the bigger boys had him outnumbered, and the quiet gasp of pain that escaped from his mouth when he hit the ground scorched her ears on the way in.

Without thinking twice, she rushed towards the three, pushing herself between the boy and Groose. "Just _what_ do you think you're doing?!" she demanded, ignoring the shocked look on her former friend's face. "Only a complete monster would hit someone like that!" And maybe she had been a bit melodramatic, but it seemed to work wonders, since Groose looked stricken, then almost contemplative—if his somewhat doltish face could look contemplative at all.

After a few seconds of silence, Zelda's glare deepened. "Well?" she barked, and both boys flinched. "What are you still doing here?" Seeing their flabbergasted expressions, she bared her teeth in a decidedly unladylike fashion and stepped forward threateningly; they cowered before her palpable fury. _"Go!"_ This time, they wasted no time staring and simply scampered off with their tails between their legs, leaving her alone with the blonde boy.

Immediately, she turned around and found him staring up at her, something akin to awe in his eyes. "Are you okay?" she fretted, dropping to her knees and grabbing his arm. He winced a little as she tugged it up to examine his elbow, which was scraped raw and bleeding. "C'mon, let's go get a bandage," she commanded, and he reluctantly acquiesced, following her to her father's study.

If her father was surprised that she had gained a new friend and was suddenly shunning Groose, he didn't show it. With a simple "Let me see what I can do," he washed the scrape and then wrapped it in a small bandage to stop the bleeding, which had sped up after the dirt and small pebbles were cleared out.

As he worked, Zelda began to yammer on about various topics—starting with how much of a jerk Groose was and ending up on the subject of Loftwings and what color she hoped hers would be. Finally, she introduced herself, realizing that she never had done so. "What's your name?" she asked, having been informed that this was polite even though she already knew that he was Link, the mute blonde orphan.

Much to her shock, and her father's as well, he smiled bashfully at her and answered, "Link."

As it turned out, the mute blonde orphan was not so mute at all.

* * *

He was eight and she was nine, and he was hell-bent on defending his best (and only) friend.

It had really been her fault in the end, he supposed—not that he'd ever condemn her, but it was still relieving to know he didn't have to beat himself up about getting her into danger (that was a first). She had been the one to say, "Hey, what's the worst that can happen?" Which she had to have known wouldn't end well. But nonetheless, she'd said it, and shown no signs of taking it back any time soon, for that matter.

As it turned out, the worst that could happen was very bad indeed, because they ended up huddled against the wall, hands raised high in the air, staring with bated breath at the raving madman in front of them.

Neither of them had ever seen him before, which was odd, as both had met everyone on the main island and most of the other islands, but he supposed it was lucky that he hadn't shown up before now. Although he couldn't exactly call their luck astounding, since he was here now, and he had a longsword in his hands, which he was waving around emphatically as if to prove his point (what that point was, Link didn't know; he wasn't exactly listening to the man's rambling).

Not for the first time, he wished fervently that they had never wandered away from Zelda's father; exploring had always seemed so harmless before, but now he wanted nothing more than for someone— _anyone_ —to be in sight. No dice: the field they'd found remained as empty as ever.

So they held their breaths and closed their eyes and waited for him to be done.

She had been the one to approach him. Link had been wary, although he had felt stupid for it at the time (which he supposed he shouldn't have). But no sooner had the friendly "Hey, mister," left Zelda's mouth than the man had leaped to his feet, smacking the blonde girl away with all his might. As she spun to the ground with a shriek, Link lunging to catch her before she hit the dirt, the man had drawn a sword, seemingly out of nowhere, and they had both froze where they stood.

And here they were.

 ** _"HEY!"_** They both jumped, Zelda letting out a small whimper at the unexpected shout. "Are you brats listening to me?" the man panted, out of breath from his lengthy harangue. Link nodded frantically, but it was a pointless gesture; the man didn't seem liable to believe them. _"You're just like everyone else!"_ the man gasped, eyes wide and crazed; he reached up and swiped at his sweat-beaded forehead. _"No one ever pays me... any... mind!"_

He punctuated his last few words with swings of his sword. The first two hacks merely lashed out feebly at the soil, but the third—Link's heart skipped at least a few minutes' worth of beats—swung around his body, aiming for Zelda.

Everything happened so fast. She cried out in fear, stumbling backwards to no avail—the man roared in outrage, oblivious to her tears—Link felt his body move on autopilot, and—

With the terrible sound of pierced flesh, the sword cut deep into Link's shoulder, hitting bone. He screamed in agony, hearing another, shriller scream come from Zelda's general direction, and the madman froze, staring in disbelief at his own sword, the blade of which was protruding from the other side of Link's arm as blood gushed down it, soaking his sleeves and making his fingers slick—

Never before had Link shown any sort of proclivity for fighting, but it was all coming back to him now. After momentarily digging his boots into the dirt with another choked cry of pain, his head snapped up, his blue eyes fixating on the man's face. Without any conscious decision on his part, he lunged for the man, colliding with his leg, and it probably shouldn't have been, but the blow was unexpected and powerful enough to send him spiraling off of the cliffside.

He screamed as he fell, until his screams faded out.

And Link was out like a match.

Later, when a tearful Zelda asked him _why,_ his only response, through bloodied teeth, was, "Well, I had to pay you back somehow, didn't I?"

* * *

He was fifteen and she was sixteen, and she had to pay him back somehow.

Ever since she was nine, she had always gone to wake him up in the morning. It became a sort of tradition, and neither of them had any plans of abandoning it any time soon. Part of it was that he just needed someone to wake him, as he certainly would never get up on his own, and she was willing to provide that service as his best friend. Part of it was that she was overcome with guilt, as he certainly would have died without the doctor's healing skills, and she needed to provide some sort of compensation.

He always denied it when she said straight-up what she was doing for him, so she kept it covert, just waking him up and sometimes supplying him with food and company when she really didn't have to. If he noticed, he never said anything, and he certainly would've demanded she stop if he'd noticed, so she silently kept on with her internal mission.

 _Repay Link for saving my life._

But, sometimes, it's hard to keep things hidden from the person who's receiving your kindness.

He had caught her before she could buy him even more unnecessary sweets the other day. "No, Zel, that's fine. I'll pay." Under normal circumstances, she might have noticed that he was courting her in that awkward, "I'm-not-gonna-admit-it-even-to-myself" way of his. But all she could muster up the energy to think was that oh crap oh crap oh crap he totally found me out didn't he I am so screwed I haven't paid him back yet what do I do now

And, like things tended to do when she was in charge, her insistence upon paying him back only escalated as time went on. And, like things tended to do when she was involved in any way, that escalation eventually went a little bit too far.

Link was a natural flier. He had never even had to go to the flying lessons that were standard for Skyloftian children who formed their first bond with their Loftwing. While the other kids were wiling away in a classroom learning about wing theory and proper saddle maintenance, he was doing effortless loop-de-loops and riding bareback without so much as an ounce of effort. It didn't help that he had a Crimson Loftwing—a Crimson Loftwing who had willingly chosen him and seemed to be enamored by the boy.

Yes, Link was an excellent flier, and, although Zelda was hardly inept, she could never hope to be as good as he was, even if he did slack off on training more often than not.

But when he fell, she jumped after him without a second thought.

It hadn't even been his fault. Groose was the one who had, very much on purpose, steered his Loftwing right into Link's, more to mock Link for his "bad flying" than anything. Zelda, who had been watching Link's flawless technique with something akin to admiration from the ground nearby, could tell that the red-haired bully had never meant for things to go so far because he was the first to let out a girlish scream as the Crimson Loftwing's wing broke. With a single agonized screech, it fell out of the sky, Link toppling off its back and beginning to plummet down to the cloud barrier below.

In other circumstances, Zelda might have had the sense to call her own Loftwing. Although not as close to her as Link's was to him, her Loftwing would have been more than happy to catch Link for her, with or without her guidance. But she didn't have her sense with her right now. It was falling down to the distant clouds alongside Link, and she knew for a fact that she couldn't get it back until he was safely on solid ground alongside her.

Without hesitation, she dove off the cliff, not bothering to whistle.

Had it not been for Link's Loftwing, they both would've died that day. Right before it would've crashed through the clouds, it came back to its senses and, with quite a bit of difficulty, managed to right itself and clumsily catch its owner. The added weight of Zelda was nearly too much for it to bear, and it was with a pained squawk that it alighted atop the cliff and dumped them both onto the grass before collapsing itself.

For the first time in her memory, Link was furious. "You could've gotten yourself killed!" he bellowed, his voice so loud that everyone in the nearby buildings peeked out of windows and doors to see the cause of the commotion.

"So could _you!"_ Zelda shouted back in return, face beet red in some mix of anger and shame. "What should I have _done?!_ ** _Just let you die?!"_**

She had expected him to continue their shouting match, perhaps even louder than before; to berate her for being so stupid and for not calling her Loftwing and for just overall taking her debt to him too far. Instead, he swept forward—for a split-second, Zelda actually flinched, thinking he was about to slug her right in the face—and, before she knew it, she was engulfed in a tight hug, his face buried in her shoulder.

"I can't lose you," he whispered, his voice suddenly small and quavering, and the moment was so personal all of a sudden that even Groose turned away politely to give them their privacy.

And, damn her for giving in so easily, but she didn't have to think about it before returning the hug and whispering, "I can't lose you, either."

From that day forward, she no longer feels like she owes him anything, but she protects him with everything she has anyway.

* * *

He is seventeen and she is eighteen, and he will find her, even if he has to scour to the ends of the Surface to do so.


End file.
